I’m bathed in neon, green spilling through the leaves above my head.
The color comes not from lights or signs but from sunlight pouring its hot rays down upon the Canadian forest. I’m sweating, beads of liquid streaking down my dirty face.
Every other second I hear the buzz of incoming mosquitos like tiny fighter jets preparing for an airstrike, thrumming.
The trail beneath my damp sneakers is compact despite the previous days’ rains.
My watch beeps, and I fish it out of my breast pocket to reset the time. The timer is set for 45 minutes. That’s how long I’ve been on this trail, portaging.
For those of you who don’t know, portaging is the act of carrying gear and boats from one body of navigable water to the next, often over mountains …show more content…
I lashed the kayak paddle to the hornbeck boat in a series of loops and knots, creating a nifty handle that would help me carry the hornbeck on my shoulder.
With the paddle secure and my gear readied, I set the timer on my watch to 45 mins, pocketed it in the breast pocket of my rain coat and set off down the trail.
It was actually an easy trail at first, wide and level, a byproduct of sharing the trail with the cart path.
There weren't many bugs, and it was surprisingly pleasant, a light hike through deciduous forest.
But then the ache set in.
My shoulder hurt badly but I couldn't switch shoulders without rearranging my packs completely. I had them set up to accommodate for the space the hornbeck would take on my back.
A few minutes before my timer was set to ring, the trail diverged from the cart path, and immediately the terrain worsened. Now narrow and riddled with roots and rocks, the trail was a far cry from the leisurely hike from before.
Another half hour of portaging later, I fell down and twisted my ankle for the second time this trip.
I bit back curses as my boat fell, and I dropped to the ground.
Ugh
I sat massaging my leg through my rain pants for quite a few minutes, trying to soothe the ebbing
The color comes not from lights or signs but from sunlight pouring its hot rays down upon the Canadian forest. I’m sweating, beads of liquid streaking down my dirty face.
Every other second I hear the buzz of incoming mosquitos like tiny fighter jets preparing for an airstrike, thrumming.
The trail beneath my damp sneakers is compact despite the previous days’ rains.
My watch beeps, and I fish it out of my breast pocket to reset the time. The timer is set for 45 minutes. That’s how long I’ve been on this trail, portaging.
For those of you who don’t know, portaging is the act of carrying gear and boats from one body of navigable water to the next, often over mountains …show more content…
I lashed the kayak paddle to the hornbeck boat in a series of loops and knots, creating a nifty handle that would help me carry the hornbeck on my shoulder.
With the paddle secure and my gear readied, I set the timer on my watch to 45 mins, pocketed it in the breast pocket of my rain coat and set off down the trail.
It was actually an easy trail at first, wide and level, a byproduct of sharing the trail with the cart path.
There weren't many bugs, and it was surprisingly pleasant, a light hike through deciduous forest.
But then the ache set in.
My shoulder hurt badly but I couldn't switch shoulders without rearranging my packs completely. I had them set up to accommodate for the space the hornbeck would take on my back.
A few minutes before my timer was set to ring, the trail diverged from the cart path, and immediately the terrain worsened. Now narrow and riddled with roots and rocks, the trail was a far cry from the leisurely hike from before.
Another half hour of portaging later, I fell down and twisted my ankle for the second time this trip.
I bit back curses as my boat fell, and I dropped to the ground.
Ugh
I sat massaging my leg through my rain pants for quite a few minutes, trying to soothe the ebbing